Not in the existential sense — though we could go there — but in the literal, meteorological sense. While the rest of the country is sweating through July and August in tank tops and shorts, San Franciscans are layering up like it's a fall weekend in the Catskills. Mark Twain may or may not have said the coldest winter he ever spent was a summer in San Francisco, but whoever said it wasn't wrong.

We bring this up because relocation season is upon us, and a fresh wave of newcomers — many following partners who landed tech or biotech jobs — are about to learn this lesson the hard way. One soon-to-be resident from New York recently asked whether mid-50s and mid-60s counts as sweater weather here. The answer? That is the weather here. In June. And July. And honestly, kind of always.

Here's your real SF packing guide: jeans, layers, and a windbreaker that doesn't make you look like a tourist. Vans are fine. A hoodie under a light jacket is the unofficial city uniform. Forget whatever "California sunshine" fantasy you've been sold — Karl the Fog is your new roommate, and he doesn't pay rent.

But here's the thing we actually want to say: welcome. Seriously.

San Francisco gets a lot of doom-and-gloom press — some of it earned, much of it not — but there's a reason people keep moving here. The food is unreal, the parks are world-class, the neighborhoods each have genuine character, and there's an energy to this city that rewards the curious. Yes, the cost of living will make your eyes water. Yes, you'll have opinions about MUNI within 72 hours. Yes, the Board of Supervisors will do something that makes you question representative democracy at least once a month.

But you'll also find a city that, underneath the bureaucratic bloat and budget madness, is full of genuinely interesting, welcoming people building lives they care about.

So pack the sweater. Skip the shorts. And get ready — San Francisco is weird, expensive, beautiful, and unlike anywhere else. We're glad you're coming.